While My Dads' Were Away
by TheAlphaWrites
Summary: In which Steve and Tony are too overprotective, Peter is annoyed by his parents, and planned weekends are interrupted. Steve/Tony. Peter/Wade. Superfamily. Requested. AU. Some sexual content within.


**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Requested by helloheelson on tumblr**

**Beta'd by WithinHerHeart, who is gold for doing this, especially considering how much I've been writing recently :D**

* * *

"…And we're just a phone call away. If anything happens, your father has his suit and we can be back here in half an hour, tops."

Peter rolled his eyes, half amused and half exasperated by his Pops constant worrying. "I know Pops; you're only going to be in Malibu. You've told me this a thousand times already. You don't have to worry about me, seriously, I'm seventeen years old."

"I'm your father, I'm always going to worry about you," Steve responded with the same line he always did, the words sounding more and more rehearsed every time he used them.

"I know, but try, yeah? This is your ten year wedding anniversary – you should be able to celebrate without spending the whole time thinking about what could go wrong here, but in reality, never would," Peter answered, a pleading tinge to his voice.

"Don't worry kiddo, I'm sure I can think of a way to keep your Pops' mind of things for a while," Tony interjected into the conversation as he entered the hallway, Dummy behind him rearing off course under the weight of Tony's suitcase. Peter winced when the poor robot hit the hallway wall with a loud crash – something told him he would need to fix that while the parents were away.

Steve sighed with fond aggravation, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Tony, what did I tell you about using Dummy for things you're perfectly capable of doing yourself?"

The man huffed with over exaggerated force. "Oh, something about it being like slave labour, but come on, what the point in creating him if you're not going to use him to your advantage? Besides, he loves to help, don't you Dummy?" he called over his shoulder.

Dummy released a high pitch whirl that genuinely meant he was agreeing with whatever was being said. He stuttered to a stop at Tony's side and carelessly dropped the case to the floor. It released a loud thud when it landed.

"Jesus Dummy, careful with that," Tony sighed, "Remind me to fix that when I get back."

Dummy lowered its head, saddened by the comments, before whizzing away, probably heading back to the labs below them.

"Awh, poor Dummy," Peter sympathised, "You could try being nicer to him."

"He knows I don't mean it," Tony brushed aside the concerns, in favour of opening his arms wide. "Now, come here son."

Peter willingly stepped into the hold and allowed his Dad to hug him. He knew it was probably lame to be seen happy to hug your parent's goodbye, but he found he didn't care much for that teenage tradition. His dads' embarrassed him, yeah, but that didn't change anything. Tony pressed a kiss to his son's forehead, pulling back to smile widely at him.

"Now, be good. Don't wreck the house; don't spend all your time in the lab; finish your school work; remember to wear clean underwear; don't abuse JARVIS, he may be an AI but he can't do everything for you, ya know?" Tony listed.

"Kind of hypocritical coming from you," Peter responded dryly, which, as usual, was ignored.

"And no wild parties in the mansion or the Tower; if you go to a party, drink responsibly, use protection and don't do drugs," he continued.

"Tony," Steve scolded, although the smile on his face belittled his tone. He glanced at their son, "You're not to go to any party without asking us first, are we clear?"

"Crystal," he saluted mockingly, "Anyway, if there was a party, I don't plan on going. I thought I'd just relax – have a few friends over to watch some TV, play a few video games; maybe I'll work on the upgraded version of the web shooters, while my homework load is relatively low."

"As long as you don't start any practical tests," Tony replied, seriously, "I don't want this weekend to end quickly because you've fallen of the empire state building."

"That was one time, are you ever going to let that go?" Peter whined.

"No, probably not," his Dad grinned widely at him. "If you get them up and running for a demo in the lab, when we get back, your Pops and I will take you out to take them for a trial run, fair deal?"

"Perfect," he grinned in return, mimicking his father's, "Have a good trip – and feel free to not tell me about what happened when you get back."

"No problem," Tony winked, he pressed another kiss to his forehead, "Have a good weekend son."

Steve copied his husband. "Remember to phone us if anything happens."

"I will, promise, now go!" Peter shooed them towards the door playfully.

He stood in the doorway and waved goodbye, as his dads' loaded the suitcases into the back of the car, and climbed into the backseat for Uncle Happy to drive them to the airport. When the car disappeared along the driveway, Peter shut the door slowly.

He restrained himself for about two minutes before he called _him_.

* * *

Peter barely had a chance to say a word before Wade had grabbed him, kissing him like his life depended on it, pressing him against the hallway wall firmly. The younger brunet let out a surprised squeak that melted into a pleasured moan, his lips parting enthusiastically. Wade grinned, before taking what was offered, clinging to the taste. He bit down on his bottom lip, tugging it playfully before releasing.

Peter blinked dazed. "Um, hi…"

"Wow, it must have been good. You can barely talk," Wade teased. He nuzzled his cheek, trailing his lips across the prominent cheekbones, the barely there touch bringing a shiver to his body. "How long will Cap and Stark be gone for?"

"Oh, _uh, um_, a-all weekend, until, _ah_, s-Sunday night I think," Peter stuttered out.

"A whole weekend for me to have my way with you," he arched an eyebrow. His gaze darkened when he thrust his hips forward against the teenager, an answering erection pressing back and the friction forcing another loud moan from his lips. He chuckled darkly, "Lucky me."

"Actually, it would be a whole weekend of me having my way with you, so technically I'm the lucky one," Peter corrected breathlessly, his hands sliding down his chest and grasping him tightly through his jeans. Wade keened closer, his breath stuttering sharply. Peter smiled widely, biting his bottom lip. "_Very lucky_," he murmured throatily.

"Oh, if you keep doing that, I may have to insist that we engage in wall sex in your hallway," Wade responded, leaning closer to nibble along the line of his jaw.

"Kinky, but as appealing as that sounds, my bed is much more comfortable and it's only upstairs," Peter countered.

Wade pulled away quickly, leaving Peter cold by the sudden lack of body heat pressed against him. He watched, blinking, as the older man jerked his black shirt over his head and leaving it in a heap on the hallway floor.

"Come on Spidey," he gave his lover a 'come hither' look, "Or I'll get started without you."

Peter eagerly watched the jean clad backside as it swayed up the stairs, before he bolted after him, abandoning his own shirt on the steps.

* * *

"Sirs, I'm sorry to interrupt," JARVIS polite voice broke through the silence in the airplane.

Tony and Steve jerked apart at the sudden and unexpected voice, both panting through swollen lips. Reluctantly, they separated, Tony sliding back into his seat. Steve flushed in embarrassment at getting caught, even if it was by a very intelligent computer, and cleared his throat loudly.

"What, uh, what's the matter JARVIS?" he started. His eyebrows furrowed and his voice showed concern, "Is it Peter? Has something happened?"

"Come on, it has to be a psychical impossibility for something to wrong that quickly," Tony objected.

"He's your son, it's very possible," Steve shot back, before glancing upwards, "Sorry JARVIS, continue."

"You requested that I inform you whenever Mr. Wilson entered the house. He has been upon the premises for…twenty minutes now," JARVIS calculated.

Tony scowled automatically. _Wade Wilson…_it wasn't that he hated that kid, it was just…he had a strong dislike for the 26 year old that his 17 year old son was in love with. Maybe it was the age difference that irked him, or maybe it was the fact that Wade was a trained assassin for SHEILD, with an unimaginable number of issues – which is saying something coming from him. He shared a brief look with Steve. They should have known he would have invited him over as soon as they had left. Between work on both sides and homework for Peter, the two hadn't seen each other for a long time – especially since Tony was used to dragging himself out of the lab in the middle of the night and meet the chipper man on his way out the door.

"What should we do?" he wondered out loud.

Steve sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Honestly, there's only one thing I want to do now."

* * *

"That's it Pete, you're so close. I can feel you," Wade's voice was husky and filthy in his ear, "so tight, so good. _Come on, let go for me. Let me feel you around me_."

Peter moaned loudly, gripping the bare skin of his partner's strong forearms, and pathetically tried to move his hips, but the strong hold on him made it impossible. He had to rely on the steady thrusting of Wade within him to get him off. His cock rubbed between their stomachs, the feeling now tinged with pain, and he let out a sharp cry.

"Please, _fuck_, please, just…_faster_, I-I need…" he pleaded, his neck arching backwards, baring it for more of Wade's abuse.

"Yeah, come on Spidey, spin your web," Wade joked, husky.

Peter groaned, this time with more exasperation. "Seriously, stop with the spider jo-_urgh!_" his complaint was cut short, by one well aimed roll of his hips against his prostate.

His orgasm crashed over him with a shudder. A whine escaped him, smothered only just by the sharp bit on his bottom lip. His nails raked across his scar ridden back. Wade followed after a few more erratic thrusts, groaning loudly before collapsing on top of the lithe body. His arms curved protectively around the smaller body and rolled onto his side, slipping out carefully. Peter winced slightly, but willingly rolled into the hold, sighing contently.

"Hmmm, that was nice," he mumbled.

"Isn't it always?" Wade commented, reaching out blindly to grasp one of the tissues he knew would be on the bedside table behind him. He gently wiped away the drying release on their torsos, pressing soft kiss to the side of his head.

Peter closed his eyes, feeling relaxed, sated and safe. He probably loved these moments more than the sex before (and even then, only slightly). It was the one of the only times when Wade was completely relaxed, content, happy with everything _they_ were, everything _he_ was. It was these moments that made Peter love him so much. The side that his parents didn't see – and thank god for that – although he did wish it could let it out just once, he hated the lectures his dads' had taken to giving him whenever Wade was brought up in the conversation.

But, selfishly, he was quite happy knowing that this Wade was just for him.

The steady beeping of his SHEILD administered phone echoed suddenly around the bedroom. Wade cursed under his breath, before rolling away from Peter to lean over the side of the bed, and rummage through the pockets of his abandoned jeans. He rested on the mattress and allowed Peter to shuffle into the crook of his arm, as he answered the call.

"Wilson," he started shortly.

"You have a mission," Agent Coulson's voice came through the speakers.

Wade glanced down at Peter, who was staring curiously up at him. "Now? I'm kind of…caught up in something at the moment."

"Yes, Wilson, now," Coulson responded, "And look at it this way, the quicker you get done, the quicker you can return to your weekend with Pete that his dads' don't know about."

"Whoa, how do you know about that?"

He could practically see the man smirking down the phone line. "Natasha," he replied simply, as if it explained everything – which it did, "Now get a move on Wilson."

He sighed. "On it sir." He ended the call and sent an apologetic look to the younger teen.

Peter sighed, his head dropping against his chest. "Let me guess – duty calls?"

"Next time Cap and Stark go away for the weekend, I'm taking my vacation time," Wade grumbled in response, reluctantly unravelling himself from the lanky limbs and climbing from the bed. He grabbed his jeans from the pile on the floor. "I'll be back soon though," he promised, "I do believe I have 36 more hours to take advantage of you before you're parents get back. I do plan to bank that time."

"Of course you do," Peter couldn't help but smile, "Go, now. Just come back soon."

Wade finished zipping up his jeans and grabbed his discarded boots, before leaning over the bed to press a heated kiss to his lover, which made him gasp slightly at the pressure of it all. "Don't worry; I have every intention of coming back. Just get some rest, you're going to need it," he winked playfully.

Peter rolled his eyes, moving to grab his boxers which were hanging on the end of his bedpost. He shimmed them on quickly and followed his shirtless boyfriend from the room. His feet silently echoed Wade's heavy, booted steps along the wooden flooring in the hallway.

"Hey, where's my shirt?" his voice suddenly wondered, glancing around himself on the stairs, as if expecting the clothing to just appear out of thin air, "I'm sure I left it on the stairs…"

"You mean this shirt?"

Both froze at the familiar voice. At the bottom of the stairs, Tony and Steve stared up at their son and his guest, the shirt hanging almost mockingly from Steve's fingers. Peter flushed from his face downwards, suddenly overly aware that he was only wearing his boxers, surrounded by his parents and his boyfriend.

He laughed nervously. "Dad, Pops, what are you…what are you doing here? I thought you'd be on your flight by now…"

"We were," Steve nodded, "But we turned around when JARVIS alerted us that Wade had been in the house, without our permission."

"You traitor JARVIS," Peter muttered under his breath, aiming a glare towards the security camera in the ceiling. He returned his gaze towards his parents and shifted awkwardly, "Um, yeah, I said that I'd invite a few friends over…Wade's a friend…"

"He's not your 'friend', he's your too-old-for-you-assassin-for-SHIELD-apparently-occassionally-have-sex-with-friend," Tony corrected.

"Well, you didn't say he couldn't come over," he snapped back defensively, "Besides, he's leaving now anyway."

"Really?" Steve arched an eyebrow.

"Yup, duty calls and all that crap," Wade answered with a smile that was just too cheery for the situation. He moved quickly down the stairs, Peter following at a slower pace behind, and took his shirt back, "So, I'll just be taking that and I'll get going." He turned to steal a goodbye kiss, which Peter made last longer than was entirely necessary in front of his dads', "I'll see you after. It was nice seeing you again, Cap, Stark." He nodded at each member of the Stark-Rogers family in turn before leaving the house with a loud slam.

"Did you really program JARVIS to check on me?" Peter demanded, his arms folded across his chest.

"Apparently, we have to," Tony shot back.

"Tony," Steve hissed a quick warning, before facing their son, "It's not that we don't trust you; we just don't trust him…"

"Well I do, Pops. I trust Wade." Peter stated firmly, "You might not approve of our relationship for whatever reasons –"

"You mean other than the fact he's nine years older than you, a trained assassin and you're still a kid," Tony murmured sarcastically.

"-but like it or not, I actually do care about him, a lot. We haven't seen each other recently, and I would really love a weekend for just us – without family or friends or work, getting in the way. Surely, you can appreciate that."

"Of course we do, but Peter, you're seventeen years old…"

"Yes, I'm seventeen, old enough to make my own mistakes. And right now, Wade isn't a regret in my life, and I'll be honest, I'm not sure he ever will be. I understand that you want to protect me, I do, but I need to do this alone and to know that you can trust me to handle my relationships by myself, the good and the bad. Now, you're going to drive back to the airport and get on that plane, and I'm going to go back upstairs to sleep until my boyfriend gets back from work."

With one last sharp look in their direction, that pretty much ordered them to do as they were told, Peter turned on his heels and stomped his way back to his bedroom.

* * *

_He doesn't think we trust him_, Steve thought sorrowfully. He was slouched in his seat on the plane, watching his partner as he paced the expanse of the aircraft in front of him.

After they had returned to the plane, Tony had responded to their son's words and actions by grumbling to himself about "bloody sons and their stupid Wade's" and drinking the very meagre supply of alcohol on the carrier. Not that he blamed him entirely for the reaction. They'd both tried their hardest to be good, understanding parents – better than their own – but in the end, they had only managed to make Peter feel as small as they had all those years ago.

A brilliant start to his anniversary weekend, he reflected bitterly.

_Maybe it's because he's still a little boy_, Steve mused, at least in his mind. He was sure that Peter would always be that little grinning child who had come home from his first day of pre-school with a crayon drawing of his family: his many aunts and uncles, his two dads', even JARVIS, Dummy and Butterfingers had been drawn. Steve remembered the happiness he had felt at that one little drawing, and Tony had framed it almost immediately – it was still hanging up in their den, never having been moved, even after twelve years and the numerous drawings that followed.

And now he was seventeen and dating and, judging by the lack of clothes, having sex – it was a strange thought that left him feeling uncomfortable, awkward and more than a little protective of his little boy. It was how every parent felt when faced with the knowledge that their baby wasn't a baby anymore.

"Do you…do you think…?" Steve paused again and sighed, running his hands over his face.

Tony regarded his husband closely, sharing in the self-pity that was displayed across his face. "That maybe we overreacted?" he supplied.

"Yeah, I mean, he's seventeen years old, nearly eighteen. We can't spend the rest of our lives protecting him from the world…"

Tony huffed as he dropped into the seat beside him. Lifting Steve's arm, he nuzzled into the gap, pressing his cheek against his shoulder. He reached out and watched their fingers slide against each other, falling into place naturally. "He's not our little boy anymore…" he whispered, nostalgia in his voice.

"Tony, I don't think he's been that little boy for a long time," Steve corrected with a long breath.

Silence surrounded them; one that allowed them the chance to reminisce in the memories of the past, giving them a few more moments to hold onto those times.

And then Tony groaned.

"We're going to have to apologise aren't we?" he grumbled.

Steve couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah Tony, we will have to apologise."

"But I hate apologising," he whined.

"Yeah, I've noticed that," the blond chuckled, "But you'll have to put aside your stubbornness and just do it. Because if there was one thing Peter inherited from you, it's that stubborn streak."

"Yeah, he never does back down from a challenge," Tony smiled crookedly.

"Or an argument," Steve added, "And you're the father so be the bigger man."

"I'm not sure that's possible when your son is taller than you," he muttered under his breath, before sighing his defeat, "Alright, as soon as we get back, I'll…apologise…but, until then, can we just enjoy our anniversary?"

"Ten years I've had to put up with you," Steve teased, "This weekend had better be spectacular to celebrate my achievement."

"Hmm, I'm sure I can think of something," he muttered playfully, before leaning into the steal a kiss.

Steve hummed in approval, shifting so he could wrap his arms around the smaller man's waist, dragging him closer so he was practically straddling his lap. He nipped at Tony's bottom lip before pulling back. "The anticipation is killing me."

"So it should," Tony nodded quickly, before lurching forward to steal another kiss.

_Yes, a brilliant start to our wedding anniversary…_

* * *

'_Peter, your Dad and I want to say sorry for earlier. It's not that we don't trust you to make your own decisions, or that we think you're making a mistake. I'm sure that Wade is a wonderful partner, everything you have wanted, but that doesn't change the fact that this is the man who has taken our baby boy away from us, and I don't think those feelings towards him will ever change. As long as you're happy, we are as well – and I'm running out of text space so I'll just say I love you xxx_'

* * *

'_Pops, I love you too. Tell Dad the same, and have a good wedding anniversary. Oh, and I swear to god, if you turn up home any time before Sunday night, I'm moving in with Uncle Bruce and Uncle Clint xxx'_

* * *

**If you have any prompts for Avengers stories, anything you want to see in print, I am open for requests. You can either send me a private message on here, or leave me a message on my tumblr: WhatIMustWrite**

**Also, I want to write more Superfamily stories, in preparation and lead up to the new Spiderman movie, so if you have suggestion, please let me know**!


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